My Cousin Kathy

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She is the girl next door. Literally. We still live in two homes on the end of a cul-de-sac, built and occupied by our families since the eighties, once the only two houses in this neighborhood on the outskirts of town. That was a few years before Kathleen and I made our grand entrances into this world. Kathleen is that girl next door – and my cousin.

Our fathers are brothers and business partners. Kelly Brother’s construction is well known in our corner of the state. Grandpop Kelly started the business with his brother, Sean, sometime after returning from Europe in World War II. Sean died the year I was born, so I don’t remember him. Kathy was born two years later.

Grandpop’s given name was William, a name he passed on to his oldest son, my father, who everyone calls Bill. My mother’s name is Sandy. I am William Dillon Kelly III. When I was young everyone called me Billy, but as I got into high school I worked very hard to get my friends to call me Will. That worked with friends and teachers, but not with family. I know that if I hear, “Billy,” on the other end of the phone I’m talking to a family member. Kathy’s father was named after Grandpop’s brother Sean, but everyone calls him Red. Kathy was named after Grandmom Kelly and her mother, Deirdre, who I call Aunt Deedee.

Kathleen Deirdre Kelly isn’t just my cousin; she is my oldest and best friend. We ran in slightly different circles in high school (seniors and sophomores don’t have many activities in common), but still hung out together after school. We were the only two kids on our street.

I got my degree in Architecture and entered the family business right after graduation. I spent most of my time designing or modifying plans for the homes that Dad, Uncle Red, and the crews would build. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t called on when we were short handed or coming up on a deadline. I’d been hanging around the building sites since I was old enough to be trusted not to hurt myself. I can frame, lay sheet rock, shingle, paint, and even lay block in a pinch.

Kathy took a different path, studying to be a nurse. She’s been working in the ER since she graduated. The work is tough, the hours tougher, but Kathy is tougher than both. Even with that toughness, and an Irish temper you would best avoid, the staff loves her and the patients adore her.

I’m sure you’re wondering why two grown kids are living with their parents. There’s really not much of a story. I had been out on my own since I graduated. I’d been dating a girl named Carol for about four years. We got engaged and even went so far as to purchase a house together. About six months before the wedding, and after six months of living together, we realized that things just weren’t going to work out between the two of us. I moved home and I’m looking at one of the properties Dad and Uncle Red are working on now.

Kathy’s tale is just as boring. She had been rooming with one of the other nurses and, for the past year, her roommate’s boyfriend. It was an odd enough arrangement until her roommates decided to get married. Kathy was the maid of honor, and moved back home while the newlyweds were on their honeymoon.

Grandmom Kelly passed away two years ago leaving Grandpop alone for the first time in over sixty years. Grandpop continued to come into the office once or twice a week. He’d sit at his desk, talk to clients and suppliers, and discuss current projects with his sons and grandson. He died, asleep at his desk, two weeks ago while Dad and Uncle Red were on a job site and I was meeting a new client on the other side of the county. At the funeral several people mentioned that at least he passed away at a place he dearly loved to be.

“Billy, are you ready?” mom called up the stairs. “We have to be at Mr. Haverty’s at ten.”

I was already descending the stairs, wearing my best khakis, dress shirt and shoes. Mom gave me a look that was somewhere between approval and “at least you’re not wearing jeans and work boots.”

Mr. Haverty had been our family lawyer for as long as I could remember. His office handled all the legal work for the business and whatever personal needs we had. Kathy and her folks were waiting for us in the driveway and the six of us piled into mom’s big Dinali. Dad drove while mom rode shotgun. Uncle Red and Aunt Deedee were behind them in the second row while Kathy and I, as we had been from station wagons to mini-vans to SUVs, were relegated to the back.

Kathy gave me a look that was almost identical to mom’s. I guess you could say that I wasn’t well known for my fashion sense. Kathy, on the other hand, looked great. She wore an emerald green dress with a cream colored lining that showed on the folded collar and short sleeves. I briefly noted that it fit her very well as I allowed her to precede me.

Kathy was equally comfortable in her work scrubs or dressed to the nines. Ever since she started nursing school she would wear one of the dozens of pairs of scrubs she owned as we hung out at one house or the other. ucuz escort She even used one of her scrub tops as a cover-up over her bikini when we would hang out by her parent’s pool.

Kathy is only 5’2″, but she inherited Aunt Deedee’s figure. Stacked is one word you could use to describe them both. Her scrubs concealed that fact, but couldn’t truly hide it. The dress she wore this day did neither. I had often heard her complain to our moms that her hips and butt were too big, something none of her various boyfriends had ever done. I certainly didn’t see the issue.

“I am very sorry for your loss,” Mr. Haverty said as we took seats in front of his large antique desk. It was a loss for him, too, I thought. Even though Mr. Haverty was dad’s age, he and Grandpop had been friends. I know that they had gone to lunch together at least once a week.

Mr. Haverty began listing the provisions of Grandpop’s will. There were substantial donations to the VFW and the Wounded Warrior Project. The business, to no one’s surprise, was left equally to Dad and Uncle Red. The document arranged for all his debts, few as they were, to be paid from his assets. Everything was listed neatly on the sheets we held. Bank accounts and a substantial stock portfolio were to be liquidated. Kathy and I were each given $15,000. The rest was split between our parents.

“Finally,” Mr. Haverty read, “I leave my home and all it’s contents to my grandchildren, William Dillon Kelly III and Kathleen Deirdre Kelly, share and share alike.” I was stunned. I looked over at Kathy and noted the surprise on her face as well.

Our grandparent’s house sat outside of town on nearly five acres of property. It was a good size home that Grandpop had built just a few years after starting his business. The exterior was stone and wood with a porch that extended the entire length of the long front. There were four bedrooms, three bathrooms, formal living room and dining room, an unbelievably comfortable den, and a country kitchen that could be in a magazine.

As old as it was it still had all the modern conveniences while maintaining it’s original style. Grandpop called it his “project.” Grandmom, with a twinkle in her eye, had called it “his mistress.” The house had been lovingly maintained over the years while the plumbing and electrical system had been unobtrusively modernized. The house was even wired for cable and data.

Grandpop’s house was the main topic of conversation as our families ate lunch in our kitchen after finishing at Mr. Haverty’s. As we talked, it seemed that our two best options were selling it and splitting the proceeds, or one of us buying out the other.

Kathy and I decided that we’d like to take a look before we made any decision. An hour later we had changed and traveled across town to the old house. I parked in front of the barn that held the old green tractor and followed Kathy up the front steps on to the porch. We hesitated for a moment before unlocking the front door. The house sure held a lot of memories. For nearly an hour we wandered through the familiar rooms, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

“I can’t bear the thought of someone else living here,” Kathy said as we sat on the couch in the den.

“Neither can I. It’s been in the family for years.”

“Still,” Kathy said standing and looking around, “it’s awfully big for just one person. I can’t imagine how lonely it must have been for Grandpop these last few years. I should have visited more often.”

“I know what you mean. Unless…”


I sat thinking for a moment before saying, “We could share the house. Like you said, it’s bigger than one person needs, but we don’t want to sell it to some stranger.”

“I don’t know if I could tolerate your constant parade of women,” Kathy said with a smile in her voice.

“Hah. I’ve been on exactly two dates since Carol and I split up. You’ll be the one with every Dr. Tom, Dick and Harry coming over.”

“I wish. The last time I was out with anyone was at my roommates wedding. I got set up with the best man, her boyfriend’s brother. He tried to cop a feel while we were dancing. If I knew how long this dry spell was going to last I might have let him.”

I laughed. “Do you think we could make it work?”

“Why not,” Kathy replied, “I know you’re not a slob, you’re employed, and you’re a pretty good handyman. Besides, we’ve practically lived together our whole lives, just in different houses.”

“Let’s do it,” I said standing up, “which bedroom do you want?

We walked back to the bedrooms and, without saying a word to each other, ignored our grandparent’s master bedroom. The fourth bedroom had been converted into a workroom, complete with a drafting table, leaving our fathers old rooms. Without discussion we both chose our own dad’s old room. There was a bathroom between the bedrooms, Jack and Jill (or in their case Jack and Jack) style.

“You can have this bathroom. I’ll use the one down ümraniye escort the hall,” I told Kathy as I walked through the connecting room.

“Sure,” she replied distractedly. She was already mentally redecorating her new room.

We shared our decision with our parents that evening. They seemed genuinely happy that the house was going to stay in the family.

The next day I was out at the property cutting the grass with the old tractor when Kathy drove up. She had just finished a shift at the hospital. She waved, went in the house, and emerged about ten minutes later with a couple of cold beers.

“You know what this place needs?” she asked as I joined her and took the offered drink. “A pool.”

“They’re not cheap.”

“I know,” she replied, “but it sure would be nice. Swimming relaxes me after a long shift in the ER.”

“I bet we could get a good price out of the sub we use at work,” I told her as I considered her idea. “We could use the money we got from the estate. That should more than cover the cost. I’ll give them a call tomorrow,” I promised. Three days later a backhoe was chewing up our back yard.

Over the next few weeks both families worked together to get the house ready for it’s new occupants. Mom and Aunt Deedee went through Grandpop’s things, keeping family heirlooms and donating some items to charity. The pool was finished and filled and I was given instructions on cleaning and maintenance. Uncle Red helped me install an outdoor kitchen while dad built a shed for the pumps and chemicals.

Our folks presented us with a nice outdoor furniture set as a gift when our families got together for a barbecue/house warming. Dad manned the grill, Uncle Red handled bar duties. Throughout the evening our dads shared stories of growing up in this house. It was a great night. The conversation turned to a relaxed silence, and Dad started dozing on one of the new lounge chairs.

“C’mon Dee, let’s get these two home,” Mom said.

“You take care of each other,” Aunt Deedee told Kathy and I giving us a big hug, and then they were gone. I turned off most of the outdoor lights and joined Kathy by the pool.

“So, what do you think roomie?” I asked.

“It’s nice,” Kathy replied sleepily. “I always loved staying here. I wonder how long it’s going to take until I feel like I’m home and not just visiting.”

“I know what you mean. It really hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Um hmm.”

“You better get to bed,” I said helping Kathy to her feet. “I’m too tired to carry you.”

“Weakling,” she said with a yawn. I locked up as Kathy padded to her room.

We saw surprisingly little of each other over the next few weeks. Kathy had rotated to the night shift and would get home after I had left for work in the morning. An hour or two after I got home at night Kathy would have to leave for her shift.

I was swimming laps one Saturday morning when Kathy walked out to the poolside table with a cup of coffee.

“Hey cuz, I’m finished with my night rotation,” she said.

Surprised by the unexpected voice, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was in the pool.

“Son of a bitch!” I yelled as I swam head first into the side of the pool.

I didn’t think I had done any real damage, but for some reason Kathy was suddenly beside me in the water – shoes, scrubs and all. That’s when I noticed that the water dripping between my fingers had a slightly pink tint to it.

“Am I bleeding?” I asked, stupidly.

“Of course you’re bleeding, dufus. You tried to swim through a concrete wall.”

“Gee Kath; are you this nice to all you’re patients?”

“Only the ones I care about who scare the crap out of me. I don’t think it’s too bad, but let’s get you out of the pool so I can take a look.”

Before I knew what was happening Kathy stripped off her aqua blue scrub top, folded it and placed it on top of my head. I may have been dazed, but not so dazed not to notice that her satiny green bra turned very transparent when wet.

With Kathy’s help I made it up the steps and over to the nearest lounge chair.

“Hold this right there,” Kathy instructed me. “I’m going to go get something to clean you up so I can take a good look.”

She hurried to the patio door, hesitated for just a moment, then kicked off her shoes, dropped her soggy scrub pants in a heap, then went in search of some supplies. As she returned I noticed that her matching panties were transparent from her unexpected swim too. A narrow strip of red hair was clearly visible.

She slowly lifted the makeshift bandage from my head then gently dabbed at the wound and told me, “The bleeding’s stopped and you’re not going to need stitches. It’s really just a scrape, but you are going to have a nasty knot by morning.”

As she continued her examination I continued mine. Her skin was pale and lightly dusted with freckles. If I looked straight ahead I was treated to a view of her big round breasts capped, from what üniversiteli öğrenci escort I could see through the slowly drying material, with puffy dark pink areola and nipples. When she tilted my head down to get a better view of the wound I could see the already noticed landing strip and something green and gold to one side I couldn’t quite make out. Was that a tattoo?

“What’s that?” I asked, not thinking that my question would tell her exactly where I’d been looking.

“Hey. Are you perving on your nurse?”

“My hot nurse,” I corrected her.

“Wow, you must have hit your head harder than I thought. You’re delusional,” she said as she finished applying a gauze bandage.

“Seriously, what are you hiding in those panties?”

For the first time since she had jumped in the pool Kathy realized just how exposed she was. She was blushing as she stood back. “I’m sorry Will. When I saw the blood on your head I just reacted. I didn’t think I would be showing you, well, everything in the process.”

“Everything, as you called it, looks fine to me,” I assured her. “Now what is that tattoo?”

“It’s a…no, it’s too embarrassing.”

“Look, I can see your tits – gorgeous, by the way – and I can see how close you shave, but you’re embarrassed by a tattoo?”

She was blushing furiously now, the skin on her chest and face competing to match her fiery red hair. She hooked her thumb by her right hip and slowly inched the green cloth down revealing the permanent art work. In the process she also exposed the top of her coppery pubic hair. The figure was down so low that it wouldn’t be revealed in even her tiniest bikini.

“It’s a Leprechaun!” I declared, startling her to a stop. “And is that a rainbow? Is there a pot of…oh,” I said, realizing where the rainbow led.

With a final push she revealed all. And I mean all.

“No one else has seen this except the girl at the tattoo shop who did it. I’d ask if you like it, but I think I already know the answer,” she said with a giggle, glancing at my seriously tented trunks. “Are you getting hard looking at your cousin?”

“My hot cousin,” I corrected her once again. If it were possible she would have blushed even more.

“You’re head might not be the only thing damaged. There appears to be some serious swelling. I’d better take a look – just to be thorough.”

She pulled down my trunks allowing my cock to spring free. Now I’m not the biggest guy in the locker room, and I’m not ‘as big around as a beer can’, but I do have what Carol used to call a ‘solid seven’. Kathy took it in her tiny hand and began to give it a very methodical examination.

“Nice. Very nice,” she cooed. “I can’t believe I’m playing with my cousin’s cock.”

As she continued her inspection I began to kiss the side of her neck eliciting a sound somewhere between a purr and a growl.

“This is so wrong,” she said, “but it feels so good and it’s been such a long time.”

“How long?” I asked between kisses.

“I told you, mmm, that you’re only the, ahh, second person to see my tattoo. Well, I got, oh god, the tattoo on my twenty second birthday almost, uhh, a year ago. It was, don’t stop, about a month before that.”

My kisses had been trailing lower, across the swell of her round breasts. I reached for the front clasp and deftly separated the two halves. Her tits were absolutely incredible. I was amazed that breasts that big could exhibit such a defiance of gravity. Her silver dollar sized areola, puckered and swollen with desire, rose nearly another inch capped by a long, darker pink nipple. It reminded me of a three tier cake. I nibbled at the cherry on top.

“Oh, shit! I love that,” she exclaimed as her hands continued to stroke and fondle.

“Kathy,” I groaned, “It’s been a while for me, too. You’re about to make me cum.”

“Yes, Will. I want you to. Cum on my tits.”

Her efforts produced the desired results. I erupted, the first shot a little high landing on her chin. The second and third found their target while the fourth and fifth trailed down her tight stomach and ended at her cute, deep belly button.

I ran the back of my middle finger from the Leprechaun and traced along the rainbow. I slid my finger through the spun copper and along her wet slit.

“Are you after me lucky charms?”

“Is it magically delicious?

“I think it’s time you found out.”

We switched positions on the lounge chair, Kathy leaning back with her legs splayed wide. I knelt and lowered my head, my tongue following the same route my finger had recently taken. I inhaled the sweet pungent aroma and placed gentle kisses on her swollen lips. I licked and kissed and nibbled every inch of her moist sex, occasionally flicking her engorged clit.

“Will, this is no time to stop and smell the roses. I want to cum. I really need to cum.”

I went to work in earnest, flicking my tongue on her nub and plunging a finger into her moist depths, curling it, searching.

“Ahheeee, yes, there, oh shit. Yessss. Oh god, oh god. I’m cumming. My, ohhh shit, hunky fucking cousin is making me cum. Ahheeeee!” she screamed as I continued my ministrations. “Oh, ano…, another, I don’t know, Oh fuck, it’s damn, again? I’ve never, I can’t, I am. Uhhhhhh oh oh oh eeeeyesssss.”

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